


Way to Die

by wicked_lovely21



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Humor, Mystery, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:41:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8243231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked_lovely21/pseuds/wicked_lovely21
Summary: "It was a hell of a way to die" 
"But that night was a night of bad ideas, and she moved towards the screams like the idiot she always promised herself she wouldn’t be."





	

It was a hell of a way to die. 

 

Thinking back, Rylan new that it wasn’t a good idea. Anyone with any sense knew that going into that neighborhood was a bad idea. But no. Rylan absolutely needed that particular brush for that particular color to make the painting complete. Nothing, not even an obviously violent area, was going to get in the way. And, of course, she had to get so caught up in the painting that, by the time she came up for air, it was 5:45. Fifteen minutes to closing of her favorite art store with 20 minutes of travel time between her and her brush. And she was nothing if not loyal. 

 

She should have called a taxi, but art supplies were expensive and she deemed it quicker to make the trip on foot rather than go through the process of obtaining a taxi. So, Rylan chose option number 2: cutting through The Grove. The area of town that most go out of their way to avoid and all consider extremely violent. She was 10 minutes away from The Art Box when she heard screaming. Now, anyone who knew Rylan knew that she was not a fighter. She is very aware of that about herself. She’s watched all the horror movies and read all the stories. She knows that the person who moves towards to strange or alerting noise is the first to either die or get severely maimed. But that night was a night of bad ideas, and she moved towards the screams like the idiot she always promised herself she wouldn’t be. 

 

The first thing Rylan noticed was the reflection of the blade. The next was the sound the knife made when it cut through the ex-screamers next; he couldn’t scream without vocal chords. Then, Rylan was aware of the smell, or lack thereof. She wasn’t in a dark, dingy alley or some strange, abandoned warehouse. No, she was on the edge of a fully-operating grocery store parking lot and she was witnessing a murder. The final thing she noticed was the killer turning toward her and the knife, with blood dripping of the blade, pointed at her. She ran. All she knew was that she had to get away. She had to tell someone. She witnessed a murder. Were those footsteps getting louder? Oh god, she had to hide.

 

Rylan knew, it was such a foolish way to die.


End file.
